The Looking Glass
by QuicksilverWitch
Summary: “I go to school and I run and play; tell the kids that it’s all okay. I laugh aloud so my friends won’t know…” That everything is NOT wonderful in Harry’s life. Now if only he could figure out which one…
1. Prologue: Down The Rabbit Hole

**DISCLAIMER: **THIS STORY IS HEREBY DECLARED A "FANFICTION." AS SUCH, THIS MERE AUTHOR HAS NO RIGHTS TO HARRY POTTER OR THE SEVERAL MEDIA REFERENCES MADE FORTHWITH, AND INSTEAD IS COPYRIGHT J.K. ROWLING, WARNER BROS., AND ALL PARTIES RESPECTFULLY.

Opening summary quote belongs to Everclear, from their song "Wonderful," which was one of the inspirations for this story.

* * *

**Full Summary:**

_Since he was little, Harry Potter has been living between worlds: his real life, with the abusive Dursleys, and the one he created in his head to escape them, where he lived with his loving family. Now that Harry is in his fifth year at Hogwarts and tortured by Professor Umbridge, he has begun to escape to his alternate world more and more often. Which means the blackouts and long periods of sleep he has been experiencing are lasting longer; and if something is not done Harry will be lost to his fantasy world forever…_

* * *

The Looking Glass

By QuicksilverWitch

* * *

**Prologue: Down the Rabbit Hole**

**August 1987**

_**It always seemed like Harry was blamed for everything that went wrong at number 4 Privet Drive…**_

"YOU LAZY LITTLE LEECH! GET IN THERE-I SAID-GET! IN! THERE!" roared the purple faced Vernon Dursley as he shoved his battered nephew, (the results of the latest "game" of "Harry Hunting" by Dudley) into the tiny cupboard under the stairs. Whimpering silently, (_"Don't cry! Don't cry or scream, else he'll come back, and then you'll REALLY get it!"_ _Whispered the inner voice in his mind anxiously_), Harry Potter, aged seven and a half, curled into a ball on his army cot, his bottle green eyes closed in horrendous pain as he clutched his broken arm and his sprained right ankle sent tremors up his short legs. Trying to control himself, he wiped his bruised face to rid himself of the embarrassing tears (_"BABY POTTER! CRY, WITTLE BABY!" Dudley and his gang jeered and kicked at him on the playground while the teachers had their backs turned_).

Calmed down, but still wary of the angry voice that had now died outside his locked cupboard door, he shut his eyes as tightly as possible, and began silently to say the words he had found in a book during library time last Friday. _**Most children, like Dudley, hated library Fridays, but Harry loved getting a chance to look at the picture books and imagine he had someone to read them to him, like Aunt Petunia did with Dudley after he had a nightmare…**_

_"There's no place like home…There's no place like home…There's no place like home…"_

The colors that usually sprung up under his eyelids when he clenched them too tightly swelled and swirled, consuming his darkened vision. Suddenly, Harry was not in the dark, spider infested cupboard, but sitting in a slim woman's lap, clenching the white apron she wore over her pale, yellow dress; and the tears he had kept at bay were suddenly flowing down his porcelain cheeks.

"There, there, Harry, everything will be fine; I spoke with those nasty boys' mummies and they'll all be in time out for a long time, I promise. Shh…here, drink your milk and eat your scone like a good boy, shh…"

Hiccupping softly, Harry turned so he was sitting properly in the woman's lap, then drank his milk and ate his delicious chocolate chip cookie, just fresh from the oven. A slender, pale hand with well-kept nails and a gentle touch brought the corner of her apron up to his face, and dried up the rest of his tears. Turning to look at her face, Harry smiled tremulously.

"Thank you, Mummy," he lisped through the gap in his front teeth, where both babies had fallen out just a week before, and Harry had gotten a shiny copper penny for each.

"Mummy" smiled tenderly.

"You're welcome, darling. Eat up now."

* * *

Since that sunny summer afternoon, Harry and his Mummy would spend all day playing fun games and teaching Harry how to bake cookies and little cakes for playing tea with his brothers and sisters.

And as time passed, Harry's second family grew to include more and more people who he could play with and who also loved him without question.

And the more different than his real life family, the _better_.

* * *

**July 1991**

_**Harry laughed as his father bounced he and his twin sister on the trampoline he had set up earlier that day for their birthday, while his other two siblings splashed around with their teenage friends and chattered about teenager things. Then, Mummy called everyone in, for it was time to cut the cake and open all the lovely presents…**_

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday Harry and Minnie, Happy Birthday to you!" the entire assembly of dark haired family members cried out in joy as Harry and his younger twin sister Minnie blew out their candles on the home made butter crème cake their mother had made with their older sister Olivia.

Laughing as he watched Minnie steal one of the M & M's Olivia had carefully outlined the edge of the round cake in, Harry mischievously swiped some for himself, while Olivia and John, their sixteen year old brother, tried to nick some of the rainbow sprinkles. Scolding her children with a grin, Mummy shooed them away with a smile, telling them to wait until it everyone was served. "Let everyone have a go at it, my hearties!" she laughed in her lilting Irish brogue. Scooping up the cake as her rich, waist length blue black hair swirled away behind her, Mummy went into the kitchen to divide the cake evenly, so all of Harry and Minnie's friends and family could share some.

"_Stupid child, always lazing about! Get back to work, you useless heathen!"_

Pausing in his laughter with Minnie and his two uncles, who had taken eleven year old Harry and Minnie into each of their laps, Harry paled and his smile faded as the shrieking voice rent the air. Looking about him, Harry wondered if anyone else had heard her. Seeing the long face, his Uncle Albert bounced Harry again, making him laugh and smile, his worries forgotten.

No one else had seemed to hear the shrieking voice, so why worry about it?

Yells of excitement passed through his numerous cousins.

"Yay! Mummy's got the cake! Cake! Cake! Cake!" Minnie chanted, ever the miniature copy of their mother.

"Here you are, my birthday babes!" she said, putting down two thick slices before Harry and Minnie.

"_I said: GET BACK TO WORK!"_

_SMACK!_

Tumbling from the elevated portion of the garden where Harry had dosed off in the sun, he was surprised when he saw his Aunt Petunia stood above him, tapping her heeled foot and glaring at him in that pinched, annoyed manner that always seemed to be on her face when she saw him.

Turning on her heel, she spoke over her shoulder, "For the last time, get back to work, you lazy little idiot! Or Uncle Vernon will have _words_ with you!"

Snorting silently, (Harry had learned to be silent; that way his relatives could not hurt him for something he had not done; not that they had not before…) Harry went back to work. Wincing as he looked up at the pale blue sky and into the harsh sunlight, he sighed, wishing he were somewhere else.

_After all, there was still the birthday cake to be had…_

_And presents to open…_

Oh if only he had hidden that strange letter! Then at least he would have had one present _here…_

* * *

**Two Weeks Later…**

"E-excuse m-me, I-I'm a _what_?"

Harry Potter had had a very rough week.

The day after his "birthday" had been interrupted by not only more of those funny letters coming from all sorts of odd places like the chimney and the Saturday milk bottles, but Harry had not been able to see his family for two weeks. And he was _desperate_ to talk to his Dad about them.

_What would they say about the letter?_

Now the gigantic fellow, (who had baked him a very squishy chocolate cake as a belated birthday gift), was telling him, he was, of all things, a _wizard_.

As in, one who could do magic.

As in, do wonky things like turning his teacher's hair blue when she had snidely remarked on Harry having no proper parents.

Or suddenly appearing on the school roof to escape Dudley's torture game, "Harry Hunting".

_...or have another, better family…for an aching moment, Harry wondered if this meant it was all real._

_**The next day, the giant and small boy headed to Diagon Alley for the young one's school supplies. He was surprised to met Professor Quirrel; was bursting with curiosity as Hagrid removed the grubby little package from vault 713. Was awed as he received his first gift in this world…**_

* * *

**September 1, 1991**

**Platform 9 and ¾**

_**Waving excitedly from the window of the train, Harry and Minnie Potter yelled their goodbyes to their parents and older siblings. What a surprise it had been for them to get identical letters written on aged parchment in (of all things) green ink! **_

_**They were both going to Hogwarts…**_

SLAM.

"Umm, excuse me, can I sit here? The rest of the cars are full…"

Jerking out of the brief nap he'd been enjoying, Harry was surprised to see the face of the boy whose mother had helped Harry find the platform after his relatives had left him at the front of Kings Cross Station, eager to get Dudley's piggy tail removed.

"Sure, go ahead," he replied, stifling a yawn and smoothing down his shoulder length black hair. "I'm Ron, by the way, Ron Weasley," the young, freckled red head said, holding out a grubby hand. Smiling slightly, Harry took it. "Harry Potter, at your service."

Suddenly, the red head's eyes bugged out, but before he could utter nary a word, his twin brothers burst in. "Alright here, Ronniekins? Hello again, Harry! All settled in now, are ya?" said the twin on the left, Fred. "Oi! Don't call me that, Fred!" blushed Weasley junior as his brothers snickered. "Anyways, we'll be in Lee Jordan's car; he's brought a pet tarantula this year!" said George giddily.

"See ya, blokes!" they yelled, and shut the car door behind them.

Staring at each other silently, contemplating each other's appearances, Harry broke the silence with a small smile. "Wish I had two older brothers," he said quietly. Ron only flushed and bowed his head, electric blue eyes hidden beneath his red hair. "Five," he muttered, making Harry frown. "Five what?" he asked curiously, "Five older brothers, not two; and there's my younger sister Ginny, too…"

Encouraged by Harry's enthusiasm, Ron continued on speaking about his family and some of the many nuances of the wizarding world.

_**They were later joined by Minnie, who had gone looking for a few other girls, and had returned with another first year girl, Hermione Granger. When it came time to disembark to Hogwarts, the four of them sailed across the lake, chattering excitedly. **_

_**Standing on the entrance hall steps, they went silent at the approach of Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor House. Delivering her speech, she led the first years to the Sorting Hat to claim their futures.**_

_**Fifteen minutes later, it was Harry's turn. Debating with the hat over the virtues of a Slytherin over a Gryffindor, the Sorting Hat finally decided.**_

"_**GRYFFINDOR!"**_

"_**Potter, Minnie!"**_

"_**GRYFFINDOR!"**_

_**After the last first year, ("Zabini, Blaise!), went into Slytherin, the Beginning of the Year feast started. **_

_**And the rest, as they say, was history…**_


	2. Chapter One: Signs of Overdose

**SEE PROLOGUE FOR DISCLAIMER, PLEASE!**

* * *

_Isn't it a curious thing, the way the human mind works?_

_How we sometimes refuse to believe that which has the potential to destroy our preconceived images of people?_

_Isn't it curious, that everyone who knew the Dursleys and Harry Potter took their word over their own observations?_

_Isn't it curious, how no teacher ever investigated Harry's bruises, or Dudley's violent behavior?_

_Isn't it curious, that Harry's first school letter was addressed to "the Cupboard under the Stairs," and no one seemed to notice? _

_Isn't it curious, how Mrs. Weasley, on the morning after her three youngest sons' mission to rescue one Harry Potter, waved off their alibi of freeing him from his prison-like accommodations? _

_In fact, the only ones who probably even took notice at all were his best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. _

_And they did not hesitate to tell others; they wanted to help their friend in the same way he had once helped them: giving the youngest boy out of six the knowledge that yes, he was special too; his abilities in the chess arena were something to be proud of. Defying the logic of the once shunned prodigy child by silently saying that she did not need knowledge to impress them; she had already succeeded. _

_However no one heeded their words save for those closest in age to them; their elders did not want to see, did not want to lose their image of their "Golden Boy."_

_And Harry? Harry said nothing, because experience gave him the impression that no one would listen; experience gave him the impression that no one would care. _

_**He said nothing, because in another life these problems did not exist; in that life, there was hope, while in the other, there was none left. **_

_**Because the people he wanted to hear him the most, were not listening. **_

* * *

**Chapter One**

**Signs of Overdose**

* * *

**Professor Umbridge's Office**

**Monday, 11:59 PM**

_**Searing pain was what he felt... **_

_Sweet Merlin, for how much longer can I handle this? _Thought the fifteen-year-old Harry Potter as his toad-like DADA Professor forced him to carve the catechism, "I must not tell lies," into the back of his hand.

Glancing up from the flowery scented paper she usually wrote her daily report to the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge on, Hogwarts' High Inquisitor and "esteemed" Professor Dolores Umbridge gazed at Harry's red and bleeding hand with a measure of pure satisfaction, pleased the lying brat was once again at her mercy. Of all the children who irked her so, he was the one she took most pleasure in torturing, (_not torture, not when it is all for you, Cornelius!_ She purred reverently in her mind). After all, to whom would he go to with his complaints? His parents were dead, his Godfather _wanted_ him dead, and the Headmaster had abandoned him, while nearly the entire school thought he was a liar.

Smirking, she said sweetly, "You did not finish the required set, Mr. Potter; twenty more, I'm afraid." Chortling quietly, she realized he had not even noticed he had already completed the required set. Leaning back in her chair, she recognized how wonderful that everything was going her way…

_Oh God, this hurts; Please, someone, do something!_

_**Later that night, Harry returned to the Gryffindor Common Room to find Minnie waiting for him, her face red and blotchy from recent tear tracks."Harry!" she whispered, as she ran to hug her older twin. Ushering him toward the couch, she silently handed him the disinfectant cream Mummy always packed them before school started, especially when Harry was placed on the Quidditch Team in his first year. ("For after your practices, my love," she had chirped while bestowing a loving kiss upon his brow.)**_

_**Taking the tub from her silently, he leaned into her tight hug, careful not to jar the now bandaged hand. "Were you able to contact Mummy?" she whispered fearfully, afraid for her brother each time he went to that horrid woman's detentions. Shaking his head no silently, he lightly kissed her forehead and walked to his room, too tired to do anything. "I'll try tomorrow when we go to Hogsmeade, Min," he said softly, then wished her goodnight. **_

_**Stumbling into his dormitory, he fell onto his bed and was asleep before his body hit the covers. **_

_**(He never even noticed that this was yet another time this year alone that the "bad things" had entered the world of his second home…)**_

* * *

"Harry! Oi, come on, mate, we'll miss breakfast!" Ron whispered frantically, trying to wake up his best friend and roommate, Harry Potter. Yielding no results, he frowned and touched his clammy skin. Rolling his eyes in exasperation, he frowned and shook him a bit. "Bloody hell, is there no in between with him? One day he sleeps like the dead, the next he can barely shut his eyes from those ruddy nightmares!"

_**He was sleeping in his dorm room after the detention with Umbridge, when Hedwig flew in through the window that was kept ajar to let the crisp November air circulate through the overheated dormitory. Alighting softly on her master's pillow, she gently took a few of his raven black hairs between her beak and let her tongue click over them gently as any mother would do for her chicks to keep their young feathers healthy. Stirring slightly at the loving behavior, Harry cracked a smile before raising his newly bandaged hand to caress her white feathers. **_

"_**Hey, girl; what's that you got there?" Cooing softly, she raised her left leg to proudly show the carefully delivered letter from Mummy. Sitting up slowly as not to disturb the other deeply sleeping boys, he quietly moved toward the window beside his bed. Sitting on the ledge as he had done in his first year at Hogwarts, he silently opened the letter and read his mother's neatly printed script.**_

"_**Dear Harry and Minnie,**_

_**Everything is going swimmingly with the plans for Christmas this year, and we all can't wait to see you in two months time at the platform in December. Oh, I miss you both terribly when you go away to Hogwarts; at least Johnny and Olivia visit on occasion, but letters are all we see of you, besides photographs. I want to hug you both so much!**_

("Oi! Harry mate! It's time to get up!")

_**On a lighter note, it seems Olivia has a new boyfriend, one whom I think the both of you know very well! When she went on that study abroad semester with the university, it seems she came into contact with Ron's older brother Charlie, and her letters and phone calls all have tones of excitement and love. I think this means he's the one! Oh, those Weasleys' are darlings! But I wish Molly wouldn't coddle you and Minnie so much, Harry; it seems she's dead set on having you as young Ginny's husband! Just remember no one is pressuring you into any relationship whatsoever! **_

("Ron, what's taking so long? Harry—shake—HARRY! We have class in two hours! You'll never eat a proper breakfast if you don't get up now!")

_**And Minnie, how is Neville? Have you finally gotten the courage to ask him out yet? Oh, and don't say "Mum! Harry's reading!", to me, young lady! He's the one who told me he had suspicions! Neville is a very nice boy, and I'm glad it's someone that at least Harry knows, and can vouch for his good behavior. Are you still on for visiting his house over the summer to work on that herbology project? I've heard from Mr. Black that she's one of the most premier herbologists and has a very high position in St. Mungo's research facility with someone named Selene Lovegood. Is she of any relation to your friend Luna, Harry?**_

("Have you tried cold water?")

("Not yet; remember how he reacted last time?")

_**Before I go, Minnie has brought something to my attention, Harry, and I'm not sure how to deal with this; what does Minnie mean when she says you're being forced to write with a "blood quill?" every night with that odious teacher Ms. Umbridge? I looked it up in that fancy wizarding dictionary you gave me during Christmas last year, and I am very angry if the definition of it is what I think it is! Why haven't you gone to your Head of House, Harold? I'm very worried about you!**_

_**Dad says hello, and will write you once he returns from his family trip to Australia; it seems Uncle Albert broke his leg when he fell off the second story of his house trying to repair the roof! Oh, that clumsy man! He's fine, just itching to get that unbearable cast off; it's too bad we don't have Madam Pomfrey on hand, isn't it?**_

_**Johnny and Olivia said they'll write to you soon as well; (and make sure you ask Johnny who this "Tonks" person is, aye? Apparently Charlie introduced them when he went to surprise Olivia for her birthday in September…)**_

_**Love Always,**_

_**Mummy XOXOXOXOXOX"**_

SPLASH!

Sitting up straight before they could say "Quidditch," Harry glared hazily at his best friends as he groped for his glasses.

"Oi, what was that for?" he asked peevishly, wiping back his freezing hair from his eyes.

Ron and Hermione looked at him obviously, as if saying "Duh."

"Honestly, mate, you need to get your head checked by Madam Pomfrey; if it isn't a lack of sleep one night, its sleeping like Snape poisoned you the next!" Ron said exasperatedly as he threw his hands up comically.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "We'll wait for you downstairs, Harry," she said wryly, throwing Ron exasperated looks as she yanked him out of the room, making Harry laugh quietly. Running a hand through his hair as he cast a quick tempus charm, he wondered about what Ron had commented on about his sleeping habits, and absently stroked his injured hand.

_I'll have to ask Minnie, I guess; I wonder why she wasn't with Hermione this morning?_

A niggling suspicion worked its way out from the dark depths of Harry's thought, causing him to freeze momentarily. _**Who's Minnie? Oh yeah; my twin sister…**_

Entering the bathroom with his towel and toiletries, he banished the half-thought as if it burned him to think on it too much, mentally focusing on other, brighter things, even in the midst of the Toad's Reign of Hogwarts.


	3. Chapter Two: Suspicions

**DISCLAIMER:**** Please see prologue. Thank you!**

**Author's Note:**** I just wanted to thank my first 3 reviewers and all of you who took the time to put this fic on you favorite list or story alert! Hope you enjoy the new chapter, and hopefully more will come as soon as my college term ends in two weeks! Please read and review!! **

* * *

**Chapter Two**

**Suspicions **

* * *

Grumbling quietly to himself as he followed the Headmaster into the dingy foyer of number 12 Grimmauld Place from the newly scrubbed kitchen(courtesy of one Molly Weasley), Severus Snape scowled as he thought of the proposition—no, _demand_—the Headmaster had just made of him, with that mangy mutt and his werewolf friend in the room no less!

Just an hour ago after the Order meeting had _finally_ ended, Severus had been approached by the Headmaster to give the bloody Potter boy, of all things, Occlumency lessons.

What sheer nerve the man had! Truth be told, Severus wanted nothing to do with the Potter brat, but circumstances such as his close appearance to his stupid sire and not to mention his close proximity (seven floors and three wings were not enough of a separation), were enough to send him into a blind rage! It was just…he, Severus had grown up with so little, and no love, while his rival in all things, James bloody Potter, had had…_everything_. Money, looks, prestige, and…_love._

He had thought, when he had met Lily before Hogwarts, that finally, here was _someone who could appreciate him, and maybe…(he had blushed at the thought)…maybe one day love him…_

But no; James Potter had gotten that too.

And he, Severus Snape, had been left in the dark.

Not bothering to say goodnight to the Headmaster, he glided down the many floors of Hogwarts to his dungeon quarters, dreading the Saturday that would most likely start World War III.

_Damn Potters._

* * *

"_Clear your mind, Potter!" _

_Harry clenched his teeth in agony as he felt Snape pierce his mind roughly. No matter how many times Harry thought of a defense to protect him mind, Snape always brought them down quick as you please, as, he had told Harry at the start, the Dark Lord would not wait until his defenses were erected before choosing to attack his mind. Holding back a groan as he felt Snape probe his mind, he belatedly took in the images that flew across his mind's eye:_

—_**He was three and Dudley had just pushed him to the ground with a hard shove, making him scrape his knee. Laughing meanly as he ran away from Harry—**_

—_**He was five and he was bruised badly. His arm hurt so bad and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were arguing about whether to set something or not and hospital expenses—**_

—_**Mummy was handing him a chocolate scone—NO!**_

_With a resounding SMACK, Snape hit the wall across the room and Harry the opposite one. Moaning as he slid down the stone wall, its cold surface a balm for his burning head, Harry sank blissfully to the ground. _

_Across the room, Snape, who had not blacked out (he was a former _Death Eater_, for Merlin's sake; he'd had worse), shakily got to his feet, staring at Harry with the same calculating coldness he'd used when he'd seen him call Draco's conjured python off Justin Finch-Fletchley over three years ago._

_Ennervating Harry with a silent flick of his wand, he sneeringly dismissed the boy, making a note to speak with the Headmaster about the discrepancy in Potter's memory: because Potter's mother certainly did NOT have the straight blue black tresses as in the memory._

* * *

Briskly striding into the empty Gryffindor common room, Harry ran his hands roughly through his hair as he violently plopped down on one of the couches, his elbows on his knees and eyes shut tightly as he tried to force the memories of earlier that night away from the forefront of his mind.

"How could Dumbledore—_Dumbledore_—of all people, do this to me?"

Choking back a violent sob as he remembered the way Snape had so easily torn through his innermost thoughts, he the thought viciously _He'll never find them—they're MINE! MY family! I don't know what the bloody headmaster had in mind, but I won't! Not if it's a repeat of the last week…_

"_POTTER! Clear. Your. Mind!"_

—_**He was six and up in a tall tree, his left ankle bleeding profusely from the vicious pug's sharp teeth—**_

—_**eight and on the school roof—**_

—_**nine and reprimanded by his teacher for "Being disgraceful! What would your parents—oh wait, you don't have them, do you?" and the entire class just laughed and laughed—**_

_No! Stop! He cried out, the overwhelming urge to push the greasy git out of his mind—_

_And with a yell, Snape was across the dungeon, snarling at being roughly catapulted out of his student's head. "Again, Potter! That was disgraceful, even I did better than that my first week; and you're the 'Boy-Who-Lived!'"_

_Breathing deeply, Harry grit his teeth and pressed onwards._

"_Legilimens!"_

—_**Six and in PAINPAINPAIN—oh make it stop! Make it stop!—**_

_**Professor Snape paused at that memory, before curiously probing deeper.**_

—"_**Don't worry, Harry; Mummy's here now…"—**_

— "_**Happy Birthday, squirt!" —**_

_**­—"Oi, Johnny, can we play Cricket on the Green?" —**_

—_**Mummy was handing him a chocolate scone—NO!**_

_An invisible force sent him in opposite direction of Snape's flying body. The last he remembered was the scone…_

_When he next felt himself awaken, Snap's piercing eyes searched Harry's face carefully, a calculating gleam in his eyes._

_Seeing Harry's pale and shaken form, he finally said, "Potter. You can go now."_

_Trembling, it was with great relief that he stumbled upstairs back to his dormitory…_

"Never again," he whispered, his usually emerald green eyes a dark forest green, the fire highlighting a brief flicker of crimson before it disappeared.

* * *

Severus Snape did not care one iota for Harry James Potter and one of his greatest pleasures in life_**—**_next to torturing the boy in potions—was pointing out his flaws to his strongest supporter, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. With his hair newly washed and dressed in his best pair of black robes, he glided gracefully up the staircase to his tower office, his mind on cloud nine as he thought of all the possible ways to break this to the Headmaster.

Two sharp taps and an "Enter!" later, and here he was calmly sipping tea, his dark eyes glittering maliciously.

"Headmaster, I desperately need to converse with you about the matter of Potter's Occlumency lessons, and I must say; the boy's mental state is becoming questionable."

Albus Dumbledore looked weary, his hands stroking his beard absently as he watched his Potions Professor carefully.

"It seems he's become delusional, headmaster; there is no other word for it. In his memories I have found distinct events that surely could not have occurred_**—**_"

"Show me, Severus," Dumbledore interrupted softly, his eyes devoid of his usual twinkle as he stood to gather his Pensieve. August purple robes swirled about him, silver stars dancing as he placed the precious object softly on his desk, pushing the copious amounts of paperwork away with barely a flick of his finger.

Leaning forward so they could view the image, they waited for the Pensieve to fine-tune the memory before stepping inside the stone basin completely.

Watching as Severus instructed Harry rather callously, Albus sent a reprimanding look toward the sneering Potions Master, and prepared himself to see what lay inside his charge's head.

—_**He was three and Dudley had just pushed him to the ground with a hard shove, making him scrape his knee. Laughing meanly as he ran away from Harry—**_

Albus and Severus were more than stunned when they delved deeper into the memory the Pensieve allowed them to peruse fully, even if Severus had only chosen to glimpse it.

Cringing as Harry was knocked down and scraped his knees on the rugged black top, they were horrified when his Uncle slapped him round the ears later on and threw him into a broom closet under the stairs.

—_**He was five and he was bruised badly. His arm hurt so bad and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were arguing about whether to set something or not and hospital expenses—**_

"He broke Harry's arm!?" Albus whispered hoarsely, his normally twinkling eyes horrified at what he was seeing. Severus said nothing, his eyes flashing. Enthralled as he was by the scenes that sent a curl of dread down his spine, he could not help but watch in mortification as before him, his every though and assumption on Harry Potter was being unraveled into nothingness.

"When you assume, it makes an ass out of u and me." He finally said as they left the memory.

—_**Six and in PAINPAINPAIN—oh make it stop! Make it stop!—**_

Severus trembled as the fat Dursley boy punched and kicked Potter over and over, bringing back memories of hanging upside down as Black, Lupin and the elder Potter had blasted curses and charms at him nonstop—

—"_**Don't worry, Harry; Mummy's here now…"—**_

This memory stunned Albus; _Harry never called his Aunt "Mummy"…_

"_**Happy Birthday, squirt!" **_

­The last memory was, perhaps, in retrospect, the worst for the two Professors, as it drove home what exactly they were seeing,

Immediately they found themselves in a very busy backyard of a yellow farmhouse on the edge of what seemed to be a large muggle town. Decorated in the traditional American Victorian style, the two men found themselves watching a scene of a birthday party, complete with guests laughing and darting about in what seemed to be prime July weather. Dumbledore looked around bewilderedly, a question on his lips, when it died as five-year-old Harry Potter and his twin sister careened through his and Severus' bodies in a frantic game of tag.

"Can't catch me, Minnie!" the gleeful voice of the smiling emerald-eyed boy rang in laughter. "I will too, Harry James! Johnny! Harry won't let me catch him!" she called out to a teenage boy with the same messy black hair as Harry, who had bright blue eyes and was currently chatting up the blonde haired girl under his arm. Turning around to face his younger siblings, he shouted back, "Oi! Harry let Minnie catch you, or else," he grinned wickedly, "Minnie might tell Selene and Luna to kiss you!" he crowed and gestured to the blonde's younger sisters who were playing some sort of spinning game that involved holding hands and running very fast in a circle before collapsing on the ground giggling.

Turning red, Harry stopped abruptly, making Minnie squeal, and tackle him to the ground. Laughing triumphantly as she sat on his back, the little Minnie proceeded to ruffle her younger brother's already unruly hair. "Ow! Minnie! Stop it, you know I hate when my hair gets messy! Ow! I'll look like I have a ruddy birds nest sitting on my head! Bloody hell!"

"Harry James!" the dulcet tones of a seasoned woman about Molly Weasley's age said sternly from the door into what seemed to be the kitchen, "Mind your language. And YOU, Jonathan Andrew! Don't you go off teaching Harry bad words, you hear?"

John merely looked affronted, while the black haired witch who resembled him and the woman merely snickered and gestured to herself as the real culprit, which sent her friends into giggles. "Great going, 'Livia; why can't _you_ get the blame for once?" he complained before swatting her over the head.

The happy scenes of the summer party went on and on; more games, lunch, and then the part that sent the Headmaster's stomach into knots:

The woman who Albus had recognized as the mother emerged from the kitchen into the suddenly darkened dining room with a modest one-layer cake that, from the hastily scraped, orangey-vanilla icing marks, was obviously home made, and shaped like a carrot. The piece-de-resistance that finally did him in, was when the entire party began singing happy birthday.

"Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Haaaaaapppppy Biiiiirrrrthhhhhdaaaaayyy Minnnnnniiiiieeeeeee and Haaaaarrrrryyyyy! Happy Birthday to you!"

"And many mooooreeee!!" the collection of teens crowed, their arms waving wildly.

Albus Dumbledore had seen enough; unable to bear what seemed to be Harry Potter's idea of a family, he yanked himself and Severus out of the memory and back to his office, his face a blank mask of shock and remorse.

For a moment, neither man did anything save to stand still.

Mentally miles away, Albus sat in his chair with a great thump, his face and posture older than his (numerous) years. Even Severus seemed to be in great shock; he had only seen a glimpse, but seeing the entire memory had been, in a word, unnerving.

Even the portraits looked disgruntled and shocked, having watched from the top of the Pensieve. Looking angry and somber in his frame, Phineas Nigellus triangle his fingers and pursed his lips severely, before dashing out of his frame, the aura of anger leaving a cold impression on his fellow Heads.

Swallowing hard, Albus looked at Severus gravely.

"…Severus…I…think…We need to know more," he said suddenly, sitting up and grabbing a quill. Gesturing for Fawkes, he attached the letter to the Phoenix and whispered to him, watching mindlessly as he disappeared in a flash of fire seconds later. "I have just sent a letter to Perenelle Flamel; she's a very prominent Healer, and would most likely have come across this phenomenon before, and I'm sure that it is. However, we need to know more, just in case, Severus. Which is why I am going to ask you to meet with Mr. Potter again." _But this time,_ he thought anxiously, _I will be there myself, and look while Severus instructs Harry._

_Because to think…that _MY_ actions drove him to disillusion, is unbearable._

This was a serious situation, much more so than if Harry had been a muggle:

_Because if we do not stop this immediately, _Albus thought, dread clouding his senses,_ What if Harry never comes back?_


	4. Chapter Three: the Beginning

**DISCLAIMER:**** Please see prologue. Thank you!**

**Author's Nook:** **WOW, was this late, or what? I apologize for the delay, as family issues kept me from updating. Hopefully things will go slightly faster now, as I have implemented a schedule that ought to allow me to update at least once a month, sooner if I can keep my inspiration from leaving me!**

**I hope you enjoy the new chapters, and thank you again for reading this fic.**

**Also, to all of you who reviewed, I was ecstatic you liked this fic so much :D !! **

**Enjoy, and please review if possible!!**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

**The Beginning**

* * *

It was a few days before Professor Snape summoned him back to Occlumency lessons, (or "remedial potions", as Malfoy had sneeringly boasted to everyone about two nights ago at dinner), and for the next three weeks, the lessons continued without a hitch.

Every night for three hours, Snape would volley curses at Harry while simultaneously trying to break into his mind, which was met with very slow resistance before more and more of Harry Potter's mind was revealed to his dread Professor. All the while, Albus Dumbledore watched worriedly from his cloaked corner as his beloved student was met with frustration in his attempts to occlude, and with a heavy sadness as more and more of both Harry Potter's lives were constantly revealed.

Upon showing the memories to Perenelle Flamel, Professor Dumbledore was presented with a grim prognosis, one that Albus Dumbledore had forced himself not to consider: Harry Potter had most likely created this haven due to the cruelty of his relatives.

"Really, Albus," she reprimanded him over tea after witnessing Harry's collected memories, "What were you thinking, leaving him in such an environment? You claim to care for young Mr. Potter, but you do realize your constant supervision these last few years could be taken in another way?"

Looking at her questioningly while Fawkes crooned sorrowfully as he gazed into the Pensieve the two had just exited, Dumbledore's mind whirred before stopping to a halt. "Preparation?" he said meekly from behind his long beard as he weakly fumbled for his lemon drops. "Preparation for fighting the Dark Lord? But I never—!!"

Perenelle fixed him with an intense stare that stated quite clearly the slang word DUH.

"One," she ticked off a finger as she spoke slowly, as if communicating with a toddler, "You sent him to live with people, who, according to his memories, had him living in a cupboard beneath a stairwell up until his Hogwarts acceptance letter, because they feared magic. You never came to check on him, because according to you," she used air quotations to emphasize what he had told her before, "'You did not want to ruin Mr. Potter's childhood by making him feel as if he were a prisoner in his own home.' From what I have just seen, Albus, he wasn't in prison, your boy was in kiddy hell. It could even be construed, that you placed him with them not so he could be with his family, but to sensitize him to muggles, and therefore avoid him becoming another Tom Riddle. The way the situation is right now might have made it even _worse_ if that _had_ happened!"

"Two," she said to the wincing Headmaster, "after ten years, you send someone to bring him to school. Never mind it looks like you made him instantly adore you by removing him from his horrid relatives, but you send someone who is sympathetic to Gryffindor house and is your positive reinforcement boy. That makes it look like you deliberately set up his versions of 'light' and 'dark'," she said dispassionately as Albus paled and began to quiver in his chair.

"Then the third, fourth and fifth would be the adventures concerning our Sorcerer's Stone, then the Basilisk, then the Triwizard Tournament. They all look like training exercises for killing a Dark Lord from an outside observer who knows the truth. Not to mention your blatant on-and-off favoritism; one minute you support him fully, the next barely take action to defend him."

"But I had to; he needed me for advice sometimes, and you have to admit, Harry is quite an intelligent young man; he does not require me for everything." Dumbledore protested.

"Yes, but you were not there for the times that _counted_, Albus; you know very well you could have protested his election as a champion in the Triwizard Tournament. That was not a blood contract, and you could have had him out through the courts before the second task. And offering him advice upon his visits to the Mirror of Erised does not count as offering much moral support, Albus." she said chidingly.

"Anyway, I have not finished yet. The last issues I would like to point out come from this year, and after that, I shall take my leave," she said, starting her lecture again.

"From what you have told me, this year so far you have left him to the hands of that psychotic fanatic of Cornelius Fudge, and her blood quill—her BLOOD QUILL, Albus— and not said a word. You do not look at him, you do not offer advice, and you don't step in. And do not—" she cut him off before he could protest about ministry suspicions, "tell me you could not have at least done it in the dead of night. The boy has an invisibility cloak, that interesting map, and the powers of observation. I bet you twenty galleons, Albus, that what I suggest next will work. And I hope you take my advice, lest you be 'screwed over', as Nicholas would say."

She stood to gather her things and looked pointedly at him before her own phoenix, Lysander, flamed in to take her away. "Pass him a hint through someone you trust, have him look at the map, and meet you somewhere to talk about all this. You underestimate young Harry's intelligence!" her voice echoed as she was swept away in gold flames.

Sitting miserably in his chair, Albus gazed at the Pensieve contemplatively, before noticing the glare of his familiar. "And I suppose you're siding with her, too?" he said moodily. Chirping in a short, clipped note, Fawkes merely looked at his bonded over his gold beak haughtily before flaming away. Groaning as the red plumage faded away, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Supreme Mugwump, Grand Sorcerer, etc., gave in to his instincts and for five minutes straight, repeatedly banged his head against his desk.

"Why can't I ever win?"

* * *

_No matter how often Professor Snape attempted to teach him Occlumency, Harry still felt as if his mind was not closed, but increasingly open to attacks from Voldemort. Oh, how he wished Professor Dumbledore had not suggested these lessons after learning of his disturbing visions!_

_Scowling, he wearily collapsed next to Minnie in the empty common room. Looking up from her Charms assignment, she rushed to his side and hugged him close._

_"Harry! Again with Snape tonight?"_

_"Yeah, Minnie. I don't think it's really working, either; my head feels so light—"_

_"—Always knew you were missing a brain—" she interjected wryly, making him crack a smile before becoming serious again. "I know, I know. But…I just…I wish it would end," he said wearily, leaving against the pillow as he closed his eyes, his sister stroking his hair just like Mummy did sometimes. _

_Curling in to the side of the couch in front of the fireplace, he never saw the bewildered look on Ron's face as he eyed the empty common room, save for his now sleeping best mate._

_**Who in Merlin's name had he been talking to?**_

* * *

_Increasingly, the strain on Harry's mind became a little too much, and it wasn't until mid-December that those closest to Harry Potter began to notice a few oddities that even for him were beyond normal…_

* * *

**Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger**

Harry shuffled downstairs between Ron and Hermione, his nose a juicy red as he repeatedly brought one of Hagrid's smaller handkerchiefs to stem the flow of sniffles. Absently nodding in agreement to whatever they were talking about, he was relieved to be seated at the Gryffindor table a while later, and gratefully dug in to some of the eggs and toast. Tuning out the rest of the world, his vision blurring for merely a second, he was jolted out of his hazy daydreams when Hedwig came to perch next to his plate as the other owls began to deliver their own parcels. Smiling slightly, he slit open the letter, skimmed it a bit, _**and then turned toward Minnie, seated on his right. **_

_**"Min, you'll never believe it! Seems 'Livia hooked up with Charlie when she went on study abroad to Romania. Now we'll really be able to call Ron our brother, eh?"**_

Hermione stared at Harry in shock, before she leaned in closer and felt Harry's forehead. "Harry," she said tersely, "did you get _any_ sleep last night? And you're burning up! I swear, you ought to go to Madam Pomfrey, Madam Toad or no!"

Ron eyed the pair, worry for his friend evident as well, when he saw Harry smile and shrug it off.

"_**Just a cold, Minnie! Oh shoot! I have to meet with Professor Flitwick to ask him about that charm we wanted for the group," he said whispered, meaning the DA. **_

Ron looked bewildered, and said cautiously as Harry left the table with his bag, "Hermione…who's Minnie?"

She looked just as worried and quite disturbed. "I…I'm not sure," she said anxiously. Shaking her head to clear her mind, she said to Ron, "Maybe it's a side effect of being sick; you know how some magical maladies can be. And he did look rather pale, not to mention sniffling all night and this morning too!" Ron eyed Harry's plate, carefully nicking some of the toast and eggs. "I'll give some of this to Fred and George just in case; maybe it's a prank, and not an illness."

**Professor McGonagall**

Having successfully gotten Professor Flitwick to teach him the advanced shield charm that could be used by as many as three people simultaneously, Harry breezed right in to Transfiguration looking happier than he had since coming back from the Dursleys.

Eyeing her young lion with the sharpness of a hawk, Professor McGonagall's sixth sense for trouble, (usually triggered by the Weasley Twins), went off as Mr. Potter sat in the row second from the front, earlier than the rest of the class save for a few Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw dispersed about the classroom. Watching as he began humming—_humming_, by Merlin's beard!—the Professor worriedly began to watch her young charge after he sat down, and promptly began to doze on his desk. Fighting off irritability, (there _were_ still twenty minutes to go, she thought sourly, so technically, he isn't doing anything wrong, but _really_), she took notice of how his usually solemn and reserved façade began to contract, not in pain or terror, as the Headmaster had warned the entire staff, (save for that—that _wretched bi—ahem_), but in a gentle smile, and was that happiness?

Bewilderedly, she looked on with curiosity as Harry murmured something. Sitting up sharply and nostrils flaring, she fixed beady eyes on him adamantly.

_**Honestly,**_ **she thought crossly as the rest of the class walked in, Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger waking Mr. Potter,** _**When did I ever give him leave to call me Minnie?**_

**Professor Sprout**

Now Pomona Sprout was a very sensible person, and utilized that sensibility to raise a good hand in guiding her stout 'Puffs. She tried so very hard not to dip a finger, as it were, into the affairs of others houses, but in this case, perhaps she would make an acception.

Class had let out about an hour ago, and, as per the Headmasters request, when she wasn't diligently watching her students, she would casually check on Mr. Potter. As always, he had seemed pensive and slightly melancholy. However, when he had gone up to hand her his assignment with the other students', he had handed in not one, but _two_ of them. Narrowing her eyes as she skimmed over the neatly written and knowledgeable paper before her, her bow-like eyebrows came together in confusion as she looked at the name neatly printed at the top.

_**Who on earth,**_** she thought bewilderedly, **_**is Minnie Potter?**_

**Professor Flitwick**

Filius Flitwick was not a Ravenclaw for nothing, despite how chipper his demeanor was. A dueling champion twenty times over in the last eighty years (starting at the seasoned age of seventeen; one of the benefits, he often lamented, of being half Goblin), he was, as the expression went, "Sharp as a tack."

However, in all his brilliance, he could not quite understand what had occurred just moments before his free period had officially started that morning. Having known about the secret society headed by Harry Potter, he was not surprised when Potter had shown up and casually asked him about a shield spell that would have been on the regular Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum. However what had surprised him was something Mr. Potter had offhandedly mentioned before leaving his office.

"_**Oh, and by the way, Professor Flitwick; Minnie said she wasn't feeling well today, so is it alright if I pick up her assignments and anything else for class, after lunch?"**_

_**Nodding in shock, the Head of Ravenclaw shook his head in disbelief.**_

_**Maybe there was a bit of James' mischievousness in Harry after all. **_

* * *

That night, Harry snuggled into his four-poster bed with a relish, sighing in comfort when his head hit the downy pillow. Falling quickly into sleep as the last of his dorm mates trudged in, he was only disturbed slightly when his attempts at occlusion faltered, and another dream ala the Dark Lord seemed to invade his mind. Struggling to keep it away from him, his moment of tenseness faded when the dream materialized into the familiarity of his family home, fully decorated for the winter hols and pristine snow falling gently from the cast iron sky.

Smiling and laughing in his dreamy holiday moment, he sighed when his mother kissed his forehead, her green eyes flashing with affection. Hugging him before going into the kitchen, Harry missed the satisfied smirk and the curling sneer beneath the flash of crimson in his Mummy's eyes.

…

….

….. _The party seemed to last forever, and when the kids began to dance to some of Mummy and Dad's old '50's LPs, the music began to twist in Harry's ears, like the vinyl record was melting and distorting the song._

….

…

_**Meanwhile…**_

In the Department of Mysteries, where Arthur Weasley was patrolling for a certain someone to protect a certain something, a silent Nagini wove her way through pipe and grate to meet him. Smiling mentally, the Dark Lord used his control over his familiar to bite the man, hissing in pleasure at his screaming visage of pain.

…

….

…..

….

…

_Harry was being swung around by his sister Olivia when the music came to a screeching halt._

_Clamping his hands over his ears in pain, he was in horror as his dream party melted away to reveal the cold halls of the corridor with the doors, and the screaming, pained form of his best mate's dad._

"HARRY!"

With a jolt, Harry snapped up in his bed, his face a sickly green, before pushing his way to the bathroom and heaving up his dinner. Sitting weakly over the rim of the toilet, he distantly heard Seamus go for Professor McGonagall while Ron went to get Madame Pomfrey. As Dean and Neville tried to coax him into his bed, Harry realized with a sinking feeling that he had run out of time.

_He's started…he's not going to wait for June any longer,_ he realized with dread, absently noting McGonagall's voice asking him to respond as she gently shook his shoulder. Raising fearful eyes to his Head of House, he spoke to her quietly before finding himself before a very familiar gargoyle.


	5. Chapter Four: Tip of the Iceberg

**DISCLAIMER:**** Please see prologue. Thank you!**

**Author's Nook:** **So…yeah…college; beautiful in some aspects, Evile (note the capitalized 'E' as well as the additional, medieval 'e' added to the end), dangerous to your overall mental health in others, non? . As a Junior, so many things happened this past semester, the worst being my battle with strep during flu season; I was so weak I couldn't move for twelve hours . . And this next one is looking to be a doozy as my English Portfolio is due by May 15 (my friend's was 400 pages long *sob*). **

**At this point, I would like to apologize to those of you kind enough to review and add this story to your watch list; I am so sorry this chapter took ****two years****!! .**

**A thousand [and one] thank yous to everyone who reviewed and/or visited, I really appreciate it! Here, have a cupcake! (Distributes virtual cupcakes of awesome ^_^)**

**Enjoy, and review! It's good for your soul! O :) **

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Four **

**Tip of the Iceberg  
**

**

* * *

**

_Last time:_

"Harry, I need you to tell me everything," the soothing tones of Professor Dumbledore's voice echoed throughout his splitting head. "P'fessor, s' Misser Weasley," he gasped hazily, his words slurring together as a slimy, yet refreshing potion was gently tipped down his throat. Leaning against Professor McGonagall, his senses distorted by both potion and dream, Harry answered the Headmaster's questions to the best of his ability before darkness consumed him, his body slumping forward of its own accord.

"Mr. Potter?!"

"Harry? HARRY!"

**

* * *

**

_"You ever have one of those dreams as a kid? You know, where you live the perfect life, no one screams at you, and there's an unlimited amount of every sweet imaginable? Well, I had them too. The only difference was, well, mine were a little more real than most."_

* * *

At first the world seemed bright and cheerful when he had first entered it, but now, due to his corrupting presence, the colors seemed muted, the flora and fauna a little worse for wear, and the laughter of the occupants in the little house before him warped, as if a record had been scratched or set to "ultra slow". Vermillion eyes watched amusedly as the lithe figure of a woman, the picture of maternal love, exited the house to usher the children inside as the sky turned to dusk. Taking a moment to breathe in the crisp summer night air, that one moment she took was all he needed. With a short cry, Mummy panted in exertion as the invading force slowly and painfully erased her very essence, until only her shell existed.

It was the perfect disguise for the Dark Lord to remain within the realm of Harry Potter's mind.

_Yet Harry did not feel his "Mummy's" suffering. Instead, he relished the feeling of a warm, sturdy hand engulfed in his unruly hair, and the dreams that came with it__**. **_

**

* * *

**

_**Once upon a time in a far away land, which, for conventions sake, we shall name Privet Drive, there lived a little boy whose very survival depended on his performing the various household chores for his Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin. He was currently engaged in those chores, polishing his Aunt's newly set hardwood floor. It was a lovely color of burnished red-brown, ("Teak," Aunt Petunia had called it), and took a very long time to polish, as Aunt Petunia was wont to claim he had missed spots and make him start all over again. **_

_**Now, however, Uncle Vernon was at work while his cousin was sleeping over at a friend's house, and his Aunt had just left to go speak with Mrs. Next-Door in the backyard, leaving him all alone in the house. Looking up from the rag dipped in the special polish, (no tools for the dratted boy, after all), the little boy smiled when he saw the leaves from the tall, gangly sugar maple in the front yard were turning all sorts of fall colors, from the deepest red to the palest yellow gold. Smiling dreamily, his bulky black frames slipping down his elfin nose, the little boy began to dream. **_

_**Suddenly, the echo of footsteps up the path could be heard, heavy, as if the owner were wearing a sort of heavy boot. If he squinted and looked out the long, rectangular piece of glass accenting the doorframe, he could almost see the swish of long midnight hair. Trembling with excitement, the little boy rose when the newly installed shrilling doorbell began its shrill chime. Swallowing with anticipation, small trembling hands worn and slightly red from the vigorous polishing closed around the golden brass doorknob and twisted it slightly. **_

_**As the door swung open slowly, bright green eyes looked up expectantly as the afternoon light streamed through the open door, obscuring the stranger's face. **_

_**Even if he never saw that man's face, he knew he was smiling, and just for him! Bending down with the ease of nobility, the stranger picked up little five-year old Harry Potter and led the two of them away from the stuffy, monotonous neighborhood on an antique Harley Davidson motorcycle, which flew them both into the puffy white clouds in the sky above. **_

_**It was then Harry knew he had never been so happy in his entire life. **_

* * *

With a startled jolt, Harry sat up in the warm, slightly musty bed he'd been placed in faster than you could say "Padfoot". The dog animagus in question, who had, moments before, been running his hands through his godson's unruly hair, snorted and blearily cracked his eyes open, before shooting up and eagerly sitting on his godson's bed as he checked his scarred forehead, smoothing back the unruly cowlicks tenderly. "Hey, kiddo," he rasped, voice hoarse from disuse. Rubbing his eyes in disbelief before placing the glasses Sirius handed to him on his nose, Harry blinked owlishly as the world came into focus, and promptly cracked a bright smile. "Sirius!"

Lunging forward from his position at the head of the large, plush bedding, Harry wrapped his arms around his Godfather. When his mind caught up with his surroundings, he pulled back and looked at Sirius worriedly. "Wait—why am I at Grimmauld Place? The last I remember I was…_oh no,_" he choked up, recalling the dream featuring Nagini and Mr. Weasley. "Sirius…is Mr. Weasley…is he…" he licked his chapped lips in worry. Sirius moved so he sat against the headboard, wrapping an arm around Harry and forcing him to lean into his side. "He's fine, pup; your dream let us know about the attack and Mediwizards were able to reach him in time. It's been about a week since the attack, and Arthur's healer will have him staying until the twenty-third, just in time for Christmas." Harry sagged against his Godfather in relief. "Thank goodness. Bloody hell…that dream was so…so…" Harry shivered, mind and body numb as he recalled the horror of seeing and feeling Nagini sink her teeth into Mr. Weasley.

Hugging Harry to his side in a tighter grip, Sirius let his mind wander to the other tidbit Hermione and Ron had told him and Remus upon their arrival two days ago.

"_It was awfully strange, Sirius, Professor Lupin," Hermione said, her brow knitted together in worry and confusion. "Really; kept mumbling to someone named Minnie about an Olivia," Ron added thoughtfully, frowning as he tried to recall any past occurrences that may have manifested before the past few weeks. "It actually reminds me of something Fred and George said they'd seen when we resc—erm, _picked up_ Harry from his relatives summer before second year. Found a picture crammed between two of the stairs. Had Harry's name on it—all five-year-old scribbles they said—and what looked like a picture of a family."_

_Hermione nodded thoughtfully, "I've read about this phenomena before; children who lack an official parental or guardian figure will often picture their own ideals about a family in their minds. And Harry said the Dursleys had no pictures of his parents so," Hermione gestured helplessly, her eyes lost in reminiscence. _

_Remus and Sirius traded concerned, angry looks. "So…Harry _never_ knew what Lily and James looked like?" Remus said in a hushed tone, his amber eyes tight with anger. Ron nodded, "Oh yeah; I still remember first year…it was over Christmas break and Harry and I had stayed at school. He'd gotten the invisibility cloak for Christmas, went exploring with it one night, and found the Mirror of Erised. It was the first time…he…well…he was so happy. And Hagrid was awful nice; he's the one who collected the photos of you and his parents for him. Harry didn't even know where to start looking for information about his parents or anyone else in his family."_

_Hermione nodded, a wistful smile on her face as her eyes held a faraway gleam. "Oh yes; we couldn't find anything at the time. Even Flourish and Blotts didn't have anything except those silly history books, which only covers _that night_. We were going to inquire with the Goblins if Harry's parents had left him anything else in another vault, perhaps, but I guess…we just never got around to it." she finished morosely. _

Smiling brightly as he answered another of Harry's tentative questions, Sirius shoved his outrage over the unfairness of his and his Godson's life to the back of his mind. There would be time enough to go over it later. Ruffling Harry's hair to get something for him to nibble on from the kitchen, he sighed, running a hand over his newly shaven face, the increased signs of weariness and grief heavy on his once handsome features. Passing Hermione and Ginny's room—the former bedroom of one of his grandmothers, if he remembered correctly—he couldn't help but become curious over a few of the book covers stacked in the corner near Hermione's trunk. Curiosity grabbing hold of him, Sirius edged forward to examine some of the titles on the shiny plastic book cover:

"'Child Abuse: Implications for Child Development and Psychopathology'…what in Merlin's name…'A Child Called "It"'… 'Child Abuse: Justice across the Magical and Muggle Communities'…" flabbergasted by some of the other titles in the stack, he bent down and removed several of them. _Perhaps Hermione won't mind if I borrowed a few…_he mused, his mind focused on the subjects contained within the muggle and magical print texts. _Perhaps, just as James and I studied to help Remus, I can study to help Harry escape those blasted relatives of his. It's not like the Order's letting me be helpful, anyways. _Nodding in resolution, he banished them to his bedroom, he continued down the stairs, his back straighter and some of his joviality returned.

Sirius Black had found a Purpose.

* * *

Having dosed off for a while after Sirius had left to get some food for the both of them, Harry blearily blinked his eyes open as he took in his surroundings of the room where they'd put him up.

Similar to the other rooms in Grimmauld Place, this one also held its fair share of dust and grim; yet unlike the others, where the prominent dark wallpaper gave the rooms a serious, morose feeling, this one was coated from ceiling to floor in posters. _Teenage posters,_ Harry recognized after a moment, a smile blooming on his lips. Pictures of Quidditch teams, motorcycles, and scantily clad female models were stuck up in nearly every corner of the room. Twisting sideways, Harry bit back a laugh as he caught sight of the great three by four meter Gryffindor flag and other scarlet and gold paraphernalia of his house tacked on the wall like trophies. The only signs that this was part of the rest of the house were the moldy green velvet curtains, the ornately carved bed frame of the canopy bed, and the rusted iron candle chandelier dangling just in front of the bed.

A quiet tap on the door pulled him out of his musings. "Come in," he called out hoarsely as he licked his chapped lips a bit. Within seconds, a bushy blur wrapped her arms around him. "Oh Harry! I'm so glad you're all right!" Hermione sniffed tearfully, her eyes slightly red. Readjusting his skewed glasses, Harry scooted over to make room for her on his side of the bed. "It's good to see you too, Hermione," he smiled before a hacking cough overtook him. Picking up the glass of water she'd brought in, she passed it over to him and helped him drink when she saw his hands tremble. "Thanks," he said after a few gulps, his throat relaxed.

After watching him drink a bit, her eyes searching his face, Harry peered at her curiously. "Are you…all right?"

Hermione sighed heavily, her hair in disarray around her pale and withdrawn face. "It was so horrible, Harry," she whispered at last, leaning her head on his shoulder. "When we found out—Ron was so pale and worried—we both thought he'd—and you were behaving so oddly before—" she started to blurt out disjointedly, hugging him when she began to cry. Patting her back with a sigh—she'd done this before—Harry leaned his head on her shoulder. "I—I know. I can't tell you how sorry I am. It's just that—a lot's been happening lately and I can't—" his voice cracked. He just couldn't keep it in anymore; and she might freak out, but he _needed _someone to understand and _What if he disappointed Sirius?_

"I just can't keep doing this anymore. I just—" Hugging Harry tightly as he caved, Hermione's eyes widened over his shoulder as she realized _This was it; what she'd been waiting for—now Harry could tell her what was wrong and she could finally help him—_

A loud bang permeated the room, making the two jump apart as Sirius strode in with a reckless grin on his face, an exasperated Professor Lupin following behind him. Hermione nearly bashed her head against the wall in frustration; she'd been _so close, damnit all! _

"Hey, Harry! Finally weaseled some food from Molly—chicken broth for now, some water, and a potion from Madame Pomfrey that should have you right as rain again. Oh, hello Hermione," Sirius chattered as he beamed at the two of them. Remus shook his head, "Honestly, Sirius, you have no tact whatsoever," he murmured, eyeing the two teenagers carefully, remembering their quick reaction to their entrance.

"Me? Tactful? Mr. Padfoot is always tactful, Moony. What were you lot talking about?" Sirius asked, setting the tray across Harry's lap. Thanking him and starting in on the food, Harry nodded when Hermione merely said, "Oh, just a few things; I was just really worried is all, especially since Harry's hand is infected," Hermione said with a frown. Harry's head twisted toward her in horror, choking down the food. "_Hermione,"_ he hissed warningly as Sirius and Remus frowned, "Hand? What about Harry's hand?" Remus asked, his tone protective. Moving Harry's sleeve back before he could push him away, Remus' eyes bulged. _"What in bloody hell is this?" _He snarled, his eyes a fierce amber. Sirius pushed past him, his face turning red when he saw '_I must not tell lies'_ on Harry's hand. "Oh you have got to be _joking_—DUMBLEDORE! YOU'RE A DEAD MAN!" he roared, tearing out of the room and racing down the stairs, Remus at his heels.

"We'll return soon, Harry, and you had better be willing to tell us the truth as to who did this to you," Remus said in a tight, heavy voice as he followed Sirius out, "_I can't believe this—a Blood Quill of all things!—WAIT FOR ME SIRIUS!" _The duo heard the werewolf bellow, and the heavy clump of feet on the stairwell. Wincing as the receding voices began to amplify, they traded nervous looks when Ron and the Twins burst in, panting heavily. "What the bloody hell was that?" he asked incredulously, eyes wide and hair rumpled as much as Harry's. Seeing Harry awake, he smiled, his face pale and drawn, clapping him on the shoulder as he sat down on the bed. "Harry, glad you're awake—budge over, would you, 'Mione? What set Lupin off?"

"This," Hermione gestured to Harry's scarred hand, wincing when Sirius' voice became so acidic he sounded like Snape. The Twins hissed, their eyes wide as Ron nodded in comprehension. "What the heck _is _that, Harry? Did someone do this to you?" Fred demanded, his own withdrawn face dark with anger. "Umbridge," he said unhappily, yanking the sleeve of his pajama shirt down over it, face pink with embarrassment. "I don't know why they're kicking up such a fuss over it; it was just a Blood Quill." The duo paled. "A BLOOD QUILL!" George yelped, falling off his perch on the other side of the bed. Seconds later, his disheveled red hair and incredulous gaze poked over the edge. Helping his brother up, Fred and George began waving their arms madly through a hurried explanation. Downstairs, Professor Dumbledore's voice started to raise with Sirius and Remus', some of their conversation drifting up through the floor. _"—don't care if you think it's a security risk! We'll take him if necessary—"_

"Harry, mate, those things were _banned _over two hundred years ago! To use one—"

"—_never said that! And what about the Blood Protection at Privet Drive? Harry needs—"_

"_Bollocks! What would you know about his needs—"_

"—is a crime punishable by thirty years in Azkaban. It was very popular for blood oaths, but—"

"—to torture a student? She's bloody mad! Why didn't—"

"—_suspect abuse…came to me a few days ago with things she noticed—"_

"—you _say_ anything?" "—_tends to overreact to little things, Remus—"_

"I tried," Harry protested, his body drooping forward in defeat and helplessness. Beside him, Ron and Hermione traded worried looks. This was very atypical of Harry, "but McGonagall just brushed me off; said I should just keep my head down as much as possible."

"Oh! How could she! She's a _teacher_—oh what am I saying," Hermione interrupted her incredulous thought with irritation, "so were Quirrel and Lockhart; and look where _they _got us," she huffed. A loud crash from down stairs made them all flinch.

"_ENOUGH! I've had enough," _Sirius' weary voice, still clipped with anger, was heard from upstairs, _"I want you and the Order out for the rest of the day—no, the next two_ weeks_. You can return after News Years unless something urgent comes up. But right now, my instincts are telling me to keep you as far from Harry as possible. And I'm inclined to agree."_

"_You know you're still not fully stable, Sirius," _Dumbledore's serious voice echoed back, _"And in good conscience I cannot let you—"_

"_Oh yes you can," _the furious tones of Kingsley butted into the ongoing verbal battle, _"Sirius is correct. And, if he lets me,_I_ will be the one to keep an eye on them, if that is your concern, Headmaster."_

"_I'll show you out, Headmaster," _Tonks' bitter tones rang out, _"We'll see you after New Years."_

Creeping out into the hallway, Harry supported by the Twins, they watched over the banister as Tonks escorted Dumbledore to the fireplace in the front hall, her hair darkened to auburn. Throwing Floo powder into the fireplace, he turned to face her before stepping through. _"Please, Nymphadora, try and make Sirius see sense—"_ his parting words went silent as Tonks evidently completed her morph, into something none of them could see. Peering down through squinted eyes, Hermione's mouth dropped open with a silent gasp as realization came to her. _"Goodbye, Headmaster. We shall see you after New Years,"_ she said firmly. Nodding in complacence, Dumbledore stepped into the fire and left. Whirling around to return to the kitchen, everyone stared in shock and awe as the angry, determined visage of Lily Potter faded back into the bubblegum pink hair and patrician visage of Tonks. Clinging to Fred and George like a barnacle, Harry attempted to hide his trembling, tilting his head so his long bangs could hide the longing in his troubled gaze.


End file.
